"It is the fortune of war," was the aviator's grave comment when Jimmy had finished. "We learn in time to accept all in that spirit. I, too, have lost many valued and loyal friends at the front. I share your sorrow for this brave comrade. Yet I am happy that none other of you has met with misfortune. "It is purely by chance that I found you," he continued. "I spent the night over the Allemand lines. Naturally, my plane has received rough treatment. It was necessary for me to come down and make the repairs. I have yet some distance to go, and my bird's wings need the attention." "Can we do anything to help you, sir?" was Jimmy's prompt inquiry. "_Merci_, but no. My plane needs but a few touches here and there, which only myself can give and hurriedly. I have the important information gleaned, which I must impart quickly to those who wait for it. For how long shall you remain in billet?" Voissard cast a thoughtful glance at Jimmy as he asked the question. "Three weeks, unless we get other orders." "That is well. Watch for me. If all goes as I hope, I shall return here to see you within the next three days. I have much to say to you." During this conversation, the Sammies who had run out of billets and up to the aeroplane, had drawn back a little distance from it, and the quartette gathered about the aviator. The average American boy hates to "butt in." Nevertheless, many pairs of bright eyes were wistfully watching the trim Nieuport, and the favored four who appeared to be on such intimate terms with its pilot. Noting this, Jimmy was seized with a kindly inspiration. "Would you mind speaking a word to the fellows back there, sir?" he inquired deferentially. "They'd like it a lot, especially if they knew who you really were. May I call them over and tell 'em? It will only take a minute and they'll be good. It will be a regular bang-up treat for them." A half-frown touched Voissard's dark brows, then his boyish smile came into evidence. "Since you ask it," he consented, "but only for a moment." At the word of permission, Jimmy hurried back to where his comrades stood. "Fellows," he greeted. "Come up and meet the Flying Terror of France. I'd like him to see what a rattling fine bunch we've got in the good old 509th." This last compliment was slyly intended to put every Sammy on his best behavior. It succeeded signally. An awed and admiring delegation, led by Jimmy, filed respectfully up to the aviator. Forming a little line, they came smartly to Attention. On the last word of presentation spoken by Jimmy, every man saluted. Gracefully returning the salute, Voissard made an earnest little speech to his young admirers, expressing his pleasure at meeting them, and thanking them in the name of France for their loyal response and allegiance to the Allied cause.